


Moments

by Hagoofygoober



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, drunk, these boys are just straight up idiots, who dont know how to show feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 04:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagoofygoober/pseuds/Hagoofygoober
Summary: "Last night you had sex with me.""So what?""Nothing, I guess. Nevermind."





	Moments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [totalbullshark](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=totalbullshark).



> hey I love these guys they're my fav. me and my friend @totalbullshark on tumblr constantly talk about au's of these boys on tumblr and it's great. this is based off this post https://hashtaggfy.tumblr.com/post/161918801824/the-guys-at-whats-upfront-2017-fun-fact-for  
> where Q says he hooks up with a he or she every year and I was like woooow nice

Upfronts time was upon the network again, which signified that the big bosses reviewed each show, which signified that Impractical Jokers was being looked over by attractive people, which signified that Murr and Q headed to the open bar for the night, which signified that Q was going to hook up with a girl or guy yet again, which signified that Murr couldn't bring himself to watch the marathon that was Brian Quinn. 

Not again. Not another year of being unbelievably infuriated that Brian Quinn can bring home arm candy when he himself can't. 

When it's upfrontin' hour, every year without fail, Q would charm his way into someone's pants, usually by midnight, sometimes earlier if the man was feeling frisky. Meanwhile Murr would stand in a corner, drink in hand, and wait for a fuck buddy to approach him, not enough courage flowing through him to actually get himself out there manually.

In all truth, Murr wasn't worried about banging anyone, he was busying himself with watching Quinn go to work. That's how it happened every year, convincing himself that it wasn't ever on purpose as he took in every little movement Brian took, entranced by his better half.

"God--Oh, fuck me, not again," Murr scoffs at his thoughts. He stares intently at his drink before taking a sip, contemplating whether or not to chug the whole thing in deep sorrow.

Murr was an honest man, so much that he couldn't lie to himself about wanting to be the arm candy that slept with Brian that night. He nips at his drink due to the fact that whenever he just so much as thinks about the subject, it causes him to want to wash away his feelings that never seemed to die down for Brian over the past twenty eight years. 

He was always told that people get over their high school crushes as soon as they start, but Murr doesn't know when this will end. It seemed like the romantic feelings he beared for Q grew every day that they were either together or apart. When will it ever fucking stop, he'd wonder endlessly.

Of course, however, these feelings would never die down because Murr would never not look Brian up and down when he walked into a room, or when he'd crack a stupid joke, or when he'd sit all alone at the bar, no one to bang in sight.

Wait, what? Hold on, alone?

Murr takes a double take before he finds himself gliding towards Brian's direction, pushing past people in order to be right by Brian's side. Fate is pulling him in for a conversation, and there is no way in hell James was going to deny it the pleasure.

Soon, his presence is mere inches away from Brian's, striking up conversation as the bigger man swallows down his drink.

"Hey, man. The event's uh, dyin' down, and you're still here. What went wrong?" Murr asks lightly, being cautious of whether he's too pressing on the matter. 

"Nothin'. It's nothin'--just wasn't feeling the people here is all." Brian doesn't even glance up from the bar, keeping all eyes away from Murr. 

Murr always had this feeling that Q was a heavily emotional guy, and that he closed himself off in order to keep from putting too much of a burden on others. Murr wanted to bring Brian out of himself, to help him talk about, embarrassingly, his feelings. It drained all the patience inside of Murr to choose careful words around Quinn, in fear of driving him away, but he figured the end goal was worth it. James had no idea what the end goal was exactly, but either way, it felt as if it was a win-win. So fuck it, Murr was gonna help out Q no matter what. 

Murr huffs out, "Nothing? Yeah right, last year around this time you'd had 8 beers and, like, 11 shots, horny enough to bang anything that came in your peripheral vision." Murr leans his arm on the bar, pointing sadly at the alcohol Brian loosely held against the table. "Now look at you: sipping at the same glass of whiskey all night? C'mon, man. That's--that's not you. Are you okay?" 

"I appreciate the sentiment, but seriously, don't worry about it," He stays quiet for a bit, then, "Actually--"

"What is it?"

"Jesus, you're so eager. As always." Q finally rotates to see Murr's smiling face, glad to see the other would finally talk face-to-face with him. Brian huffs out a laugh of exasperation. "Was wonderin' if I could crash at your place. Only for the night." Brian almost seems jittery as he asks, fingers tapping wildly against his drink glass. "Too late to take a cab, y'know?" 

James feels himself start to beam, because of course he'll never say no to any favor Brian asked for, that's just who he is. He slaps Brian's back in a meaningful way. "Of course. You didn't even have to ask. You could have just come, and y-you know I wouldn't have minded. You're my man. My best friend. Of course--"

"I heard ya. Thanks." 

"Yeah."

\---

"Fuck me. Oh God, Brian. You feel so good." 

It didn't take them long to escalate as soon as the two got to Murr's apartment. A couple more drinks, and the rest of the night was golden. Of course, until Murr got to asking questions. 

"Q--Brian, can you--can we just talk for a sec?" Murr could barely muster out any kind of syllables as Brian continuously thrusting into him; Seemingly faster as soon as James starts to talk. When Murr receives nothing as a response from Brian, he pipes up again, "It's just, uh, why me? Why are you f-fucking me? Of all the cock suckers out there tonight, you ended up choosing--choosing me? So many others--"

"Do you ever shut the hell up? Even when I'm fucking you, which God knows you've dreamt about this moment forever, you're still running your mouth?" Brian never stops pressing into him as the two murmur small arguments to each other, knowing that if he did pull away, they'd be done and wouldn't start back up again. It was the fear that they'd think too hard about what they were doing and back out, never speaking about what happened. That's why they got drunk together. Just passed off as a mistake, no questions asked, Q thinks, but he's dealing with James Motor-Mouth Murray.

Nonetheless, Murr persists. "I'm just saying, this," He gestures to Brian's dick in his ass, "doesn't seem like your go to. Riddle me this--oh, good God, Bri. Right there, p-please. Keep it right there." His head digs back into his pillow, holding on to the back of Q's neck as the bigger man leans into him more. Embarrassed, "A-anyways, as I was saying--"

"Hey, for once, please enjoy the goddamn moment." 

\---

"Fuck, that was good." James lays in his spot on the bed for a while, euphoric, because Brian was right about him wanting that. Though he would never admit it.

"Uh-huh." Brian sits by the edge of the bed, distant.

"So is it okay to ask if that was the first time you've--"

"Nope."

"I have no idea what you're answering."

"Good, not something I wanna talk about with you. Just--go to sleep. This is a good moment. We just had a whole bunch of good moments and you're ruining them all." Q goes to turn over on his side, away from Murr.

"But--"

He stops, knowing it couldn't be that easy to lie down. "Murray. If I kiss you, will you shut the fuck up?" 

\---

Murr catches Brian trying to leave during the mere hours of morning. He didn't say a word at first, not finding or knowing the right thing to say, or wondering if he should have said anything at all. It's when Quinn opened James' front door that James shoots up from the covers, and without thinking, "Please, don't leave. Why are you leaving? I'm sorry." 

Brian stops in his tracks, hand still resting on the half opened knob. Many moments of silence pass, before Brian, who is still facing the door, not looking back, responds. "I don't," a pause before continuing, "want this to mean something. If it means something then it gets too personal." 

Murray doesn't know what to say, doesn't want to believe what was just said. He speaks his thoughts. "Last night you had sex with me."

"So what?" 

Hurt.

"Nothing, I guess. Nevermind."

Brian's out of the door. Murr blames himself.

\---

At that point, they couldn't stand to look at each other. When they begin to film the next season, it's the first time they've seen the other since upfronts night. Murr gives unending side-eye glances, staring out of hatred, or maybe it was because he genuinely misses Quinn; He can't tell. 

Q tries to act like James isn't there, at least not when he knows Murr can't see him. If James is turned around at any point in the day, Brian stops and looks, somber thoughts showing up in his mind. He wishes he could go back.

They both hate how much they miss each other because fuck the other guy, fuck how they were treated, fuck how they don't need each other, fuck him for not caring enough to hash out what happened and change things for the better. 

Everything's just uncomfortable now.

At first it was passed off as another fight between the two, a simple misunderstanding that was blown out of proportion, but this is going on way longer than anyone expected. Clearly something had happened that no outside force (Joe and Sal) could fix and that was okay. James Murray and Brian Quinn were adults, barely, but they could work out the mess they created. At least, that's what Joe and Sal hoped. But they promised, no intervening, knowing it would only make matters worse.

\--

Weeks passed and still nothing. There was more red, puffy eyes on set than before, more hangovers and not getting enough sleep. Sure, they passed it off as nothing, but it was so much more. They both thought about how it wouldn't work out, that the sex was good, but what else was there to it. 

Of course it was such an easy routine to fall into. They both knew there was something deeper there. They were good for each other. They could be so much more. They could be in love. 

\---

3 weeks. 3 weeks until the boys are in a meeting room by themselves for the first time. Everyone's already left, but they feel as if they're glued to their seats, unable to move as they lock eyes. Very few words are exchanged for a while, little small talk like, "How about that weather out there?" Replied with some typical answer. It was stupid, but that's how they're bound together. 

It gets deeper from there, mainly Murr being worried. "Have you been, uh, getting enough sleep?"

"Tried to."

"Me too. Doesn't really work though, huh?"

Q shook his head.

It's a long while before anything is said, leaving them both to their thoughts, which is never good. As the two look at each other, they seem as if they're on the verge of tears. They are, but will never admit it. Staten Island boys don't show feelings, and they don't plan on starting now. 

Murr breaks tradition though, "I want you to be okay."

Q looks as if he was struck by a bullet with the way he reacted to the statement, his facial expression clearly saying 'why are you still worrying about me?' Instead, a sullen "I should be saying that to you."

More silence, Murray taking solace in the fact that maybe Q has been thinking about him. A tear steams down James' face. There are too many emotions in both of them. It hurts too goddamn much to keep it in for this long. He shouldn't be crying, not in front of the source. God, he's such an idiot.

"Murray, I'm sorry."

Murray can't even believe what he's hearing because, "No, I'm sorry. I-I pushed you into leaving. Of course you wanted to leave. I run my damn mouth too g-goddamn much that you didn't want me anymore, and you wanted someone else who wasn't me, and it, uh, took a while for me to understand that b-but--"

"The fuck are you talking about? You have no reason to be sorry. I fucked up. You're so wrong about all that. I didn't wanna fuck up what we already had. That's why I left. It was stupid. I was stupid. Okay? Don't," He stops, surprised by what Murray said, "Blame yourself. It's all me."

"Sorry."

"Murray."

"Oops, uh--"

"It's fine. We're fine. I don't wanna talk about this again."

There's an understanding between them, acknowledging that they both had faults and mishaps in what happened, and that they can learn from that. They want to be better in their friendship. 

Both getting up from their seats, finally, they head for the door. Q makes sure Murray leaves first.

As they head down the hall in separate directions, "Sleep well tonight. Please."

"You too."

\---

It takes a while for them to get anywhere near where they used to be, to their original settings, but they get there. They hang out several times at Q's, watching a movie or TV show, laying on top of each other like a puddle, being vulnerable, being themselves. It's nice. They find comfort in the other, loving being in their arms, in their company. It's unbelievable that they're so close, that they feel like fools in love. 

In reality, they decide they're good for each other, giving emotional support at all times, giving that comfort that they know will always be there now, that they won't leave each other. 

"I love you."

"I love you so much."


End file.
